Flight

Day 25

It must have been the food poisoning and antinauseant, as well as the conditions of sleeping on cold stone, that produced a fever dream: A dragon arising from the snowy mountaintops while I sat on a ledge as if I were a sacrifice to some angry god or an offering of atonement. I felt the dragon’s white-hot breath on my exposed torso and I heard my granny say “A crisis is an opportunity riding the dangerous wind.” I jumped off the ledge and found I could fly.

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